


That Drink

by MeganeSensei (zlabya)



Category: History Boys - Bennett
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:12:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zlabya/pseuds/MeganeSensei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If history had rattled over the pins in a different way and there was no motorcycle accident, Dakin and Irwin would have gotten together and had that, umm, 'drink.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [godofwine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godofwine/gifts).



The last of Dakin's school days finished without incident, Irwin riding off into the sunset, as it were, with Hector. That Sunday Dakin made the promised visit to Irwin's place for 'a drink.'

Irwin's flat was a loft room, the attic of a converted rowhouse with the roof beams showing. The room smelled slightly dusty and was surprisingly untidy, with books and papers piled about, clothing in piles near the bed, and an open magazine on the floor that looked to be a high-class porno magazine but on Dakin's second glance (as Irwin fetched two bottles of beer from the small refrigerator) turned out to be a journal on classical antiquities.

Irwin cleared a pair of trousers and another magazine (which was porn) off a chair for Dakin and presented him with a bottle.

"Not bad," Dakin commented, eyeing the label before taking a sip.

Irwin set his, untouched, on the bedside table. "So," he began, "how have you been—oh, damn." He shook his head, looking down at the tips of his shoes.

"Right, this isn't what I came here for, is it?" Dakin grinned saucily as he got to his feet and took a step toward his former teacher. _To hell with the beer. Let's get it on._

In response, Irwin strode the short distance across the floorboards, grabbed Dakin like a drowning man snatching a life ring, and kissed him, hard. Dakin prided himself on his kissing ability but this was skill and subtle power beyond any of his experience. That demanding mouth and tongue seemed to have no intention of giving up, not even to allow Dakin any initiative. Irwin's slim hands scouted out his back, mussing and untucking his shirt. Those hands were slightly cold; a sensual comfort in the stuffy flat on a warm day.

"Ahh..." That was Irwin, though Dakin echoed the sentiment.

Irwin slipped Dakin's polo shirt up his torso and over his head. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Dakin's bare chest as the shirt hit the floor. Those fine hands were busy with his fly-button, Dakin's prick expanding to press against them.

"Patience," Irwin murmured. Down went the jeans, and he guided Dakin to sit in the chair. Kneeling, Irwin tugged at a shoelace, but Dakin forestalled him by kicking off one trainer and then the other. The socks, though, he let Irwin remove.

_Is it going to be like this all through?_ Dakin wondered. _This is quite the seduction. I suppose older men like to take their ti--_

"Oooh..." How could his smelly foot give him such pleasure? Irwin was amazing. _He must fancy me quite a bit. Probably in love with me._ Dakin tilted his head back, leaning limply against the heavy wooden chair as Irwin caressed his instep and gently tugged at his toes. Sighing softly, the older man continued his attentions, moving upward.

"Stop." Dakin's fingers tugged at Irwin's shirt. "About time you get your kit off."

_And get _me_ off too, dammit! I'm done with being patient._

"Very well." Irwin stood, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. There was that annoying smile on his face, the one he showed whenever Dakin thought he was being particularly witty--just before Irwin took him down a peg or three.

Irwin removed his trousers, revealing worn blue boxers--and quite a raging hard-on.

_Impressive._

"Is that satisfactory, Mr. Dakin?" Irwin asked, smirking openly this time.

"More satisfactory if you kneel back down and do something about this," Dakin gestured.

"Are you sure?" Irwin reached out, trailing his fingers across Dakin's bare belly, making the young man tremble.

"Ah--"

Now Irwin bent and kissed Dakin on the lips, tenderly yet with a sure sense of possession. One hand brushed along Dakin's side, thumb reaching out to flick his nipple like a light-switch.

Dakin groaned.

He didn't remember exactly how Irwin got his pants off. But what followed was one of the most memorable experiences of his life. A couple of girls had sucked him off, but that experience was like drinking warm beer in comparison with the top-shelf whiskey intoxication of Irwin's oral expertise. Or, rather, it was like Dakin imagined top-shelf whiskey would make him feel.

_Of course he's brilliant at it,_ Dakin thought. _He's had lots of practice, and naturally he knows what a man wants._ Uncontrollable shivers raced down his spine and seemingly right into his feet. And he couldn't help making embarrassingly feral noises that grew louder every moment. Not that he cared--all he could think of was wanting the liquid fire running through his body to go on without end.

It finally did end, though, without warning. Irwin seemed to take it with aplomb, Dakin's prick a good ways down his throat when it spouted. Irwin merely pulled back slowly and shook himself, tongue quickly swiping about his slightly-parted lips. Behind the glasses, his eyes seemed hazy.

"All right?" Irwin asked, resting a hand on Dakin's knee and smiling in a way Dakin had never seen. Wait--no, he had. Posner, had smiled at him like that once or twice, in the early days before the kid got the message that Dakin knew how he felt and had no interest that way.

"All right?? Fuckin' incredible, si--Irwin."

"Oh, God, please don't call me Irwin; Tom." The older man brushed the hair back off his forehead. "Now," he continued, fingers slipping under the waistband of his sad shorts, "My turn."

_Shit. Shitshitshit._ How was he ever going to do that? Especially since he had zero experience on this end of things. A girl's clit was so much smaller, and they seemed ever so grateful for the smallest attention there. No help for it, there was the man, naked. Definitely impressive in size too, and pointing straight up. He was to get _that_ into his mouth?

_Brazen it out._ Dakin stood and offered the chair to Irwin--no chance he would ever think of him as "Tom"--with a grandiose sweep of his hand. Irwin removed his glasses, folded them, and set them on the side table.

_He's actually quite handsome._ Dakin thought. Very nice eyes. _Feels like they're looking right into my guts, and my brain, though._

Doing his best not to think further, Dakin knelt, took that huge cock in his hand, and bent over it. He slipped the foreskin back--that took all of half a second--took a breath, and stuck out his tongue.

First contact wasn't so bad as he'd feared, and he survived a few licks rather nicely, earning a small sigh from Irwin. _Open your mouth and go for it._

_Less appealing, but survivable._ After a while, Dakin even enjoyed it a bit, bobbing up and down and feeling the jerks and half-controlled thrusts into his mouth. His jaw was sore, though, before Irwin finally spilled his load.

And that was a total fuck-up. Dakin spluttered and spat like a toddler taking medicine, tinny-tasting spunk running down his chin and onto his chest.

Irwin chuckled, damn him. He rose, padded bare-arsed to the kitchen, and brought Dakin a dishtowel to wipe off with.

"Sorry," Dakin muttered, red as the cherries printed on the dishcloth. "I'm not very good at this."

"It's a fine beginning," Irwin smiled, ruffling his hair. "And I know you are a fast learner. Wednesday afternoon, perhaps?"

Dakin felt as if he were suddenly drowning in bitingly cold water.

_What the fuck have I gotten myself into? _


End file.
